


yom kippur

by octopodian



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: AND I FINISHED IT ON TIME THIS TIME!, GUILT! ATONING! ITS GOT IT ALL, Gen, Jewish Character, Jewish Headcanons, M/M, i do. i do every single day, yall ever think about how good jewish themes and motifs fit in with the pre-existing magnus lore?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 03:04:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20959412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopodian/pseuds/octopodian
Summary: John fasts as best as he can, and some apologies and attempts to atone are made.Slight spoilers for episode 156, Reflection.





	yom kippur

**Author's Note:**

> thank you ari and crow in the rq discord for beta'ing, and staticbees for being my writing bro as always and adding some sentences!
> 
> also i am currently fasting and its not this bad (or even bad at all, im super happy doing it), jon just has some eldritch cravings goin on

Fasting hurts.

Jon hasn’t eaten proper food in months, but he'd made sure to remove all the statements from his office, and figures that is as close as he can get. He’d tried to get rid of the tape recorders, but they’d just reappeared afterwards, and he'd quickly lost the urge to keep trying. 

He doesn't know how long he can go without a statement, how long the Eye will tolerate it, especially when it's been about a month (exactly 29 days, his Sight informs him) since he’d had anything fresh. 

Jon had been raised Jewish, but he'd never seemed to get much out of the services his grandmother made him go to, with too little faith and too many questions. A public place where anyone could be a potential meal, especially the one in the middle of a holy holiday, is the last place he wants to be.

But of all people, he needs to atone more than anyone. 

He can't exactly apologize to any of the people he’d taken statements from. Just the sight of his face would likely do more harm than any apology could ever undo. He doesn't deserve forgiveness from anyone, least of all those whose trust he so easily took advantage of. He doesn’t want to die, really, but he can’t help the knowledge that it'd be so much better for everyone if he did.

Unsure of what else to do, he sits, fists clenched against the cravings, ignoring the whine of the tape recorder turning on, and he fasts. 

The door creaks open, quietly, softly. It catches him slightly off guard - usually the Eye tells him who it is before they even get close, but he figures his powers are waning. It feels uncomfortable not to Know anymore: to barely be able to See.

“I’m busy,” he mutters, drawing his knees back to his chest, hoping whoever it is will leave. Probably Basira coming to check on him, or Daisy trying to keep him company. 

“I can see that.”

Jon’s heart does such a flip that he almost thinks he's going to be sick. He quickly spins around, trying to stand up and face _him_, but his legs don’t hold his weight and he awkwardly crumples back into his chair.

“You look terrible,” Martin says, more on reflex than anything else: his eyebrows are furrowed, hands clenching at his side. 

Even as weak as Jon is, he can Hear the low, empty whistling of the Lonely in his voice.

“Oh, you know. Hunger pains. Er, withdrawals. Both? It’s uh, it’s not... fun.” He forces his own hands to relax, ignoring the slight shake. 

“That’s sort of the point, isn’t it? Not supposed to be pleasant.”

“Right, right, o-of course, but... right. Sorry.” He exhales. “Don’t even know why I’m doing this? It’s not like I’m very religious, not after... well, I’m pretty deep into idol worship, right? So it’s not like... I’m not expecting my fate to be written in a book, or for some divine blessing. But I’m here anyway, going through the routine, acting like it's going to change something.”

Martin shrugs, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s not all just apologizing to G-d. It’s self improvement. Realizing what you’ve done wrong, being forgiven for it, and changing. It’s a chance to start being a better person.”

Jon swallows down the knowledge that he isn’t a  _ person _ anymore, not really, and no amount of regret is going to change that. “It’s good to see you.”

Martin smiles politely, but there’s not much emotion behind it. Then he frowns. “You... aren’t hurting yourself, are you? By not reading statements?"

"...Well," Jon starts.

"You're not supposed to fast if it's making you sick.”

“It’s not exactly like me...  _ consuming  _ statements is healthy either, is it? I mean, it’s either me or someone else. Even an old statement is still someone. Taking care of myself means hurting other... means hurting people. That’s how it is now.”

“Right, but you shouldn’t-” Martin cuts himself off, and Jon notices the bags under his eyes and the aching stiffness in his posture. He sighs quietly. “It’s not important. Do whatever you’re going to do. I came to apologize."

“...To me?” Jon asks, kicking himself internally after he speaks because  _ obviously, Jon, who else? The tape recorders?  _

Martin gives him a look saying as much. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been here. And I’m sorry that I’ve been working with Lukas. I mean, I’m not sorry about my reasons, I guess, but I’m... I’m sorry it all turned out this way. I wish it hadn’t, y’know?” 

“Martin, I- I should be apologizing to you.”

A huff, half disbelief and half annoyance. Jon suppresses another flood of guilt. Feeling sorry for himself isn’t going to change anything. 

“I’ve been... I haven’t been fair to you. I’m sorry. I treated you horribly, especially at first, and never really apologized for it. I’ve been trying to trust you and trust that you know what you’re doing, but I can’t even do that right, and I’m sorry. I care about you a lot and I’ve missed you and... I’m really sorry, Martin. For everything.”

Martin winces like Jon’s words are physically painful. Maybe they are, with the influence of the Lonely as thick as it is. “It’s fine. Thank you.” A pause. “I’m... I’m also here to say goodbye.”

John blinks for a second. “O-oh. Are you... are you going to... quit? Is- is that what this is?”

He almost laughs. “You know I’ve been working with Peter. Well, we’ve been working  _ towards  _ something. And... that’s going to happen. Tomorrow.”

The sinking dread seeps into John’s bones. “...and you aren’t coming back.”

“No. No, I don’t think I am.” Martin doesn’t even sound sad, just subdued. 

Jon is silent for a moment, but then explodes. “Martin, I-”

“Jon, come on, you  _ knew _ -”

“I can’t let you do this!”

“You can’t  _ stop _ me!”

“I need you to be safe!”

They both snap quiet, nothing but breathing and the whir of the recorder breaking the silence. Jon belatedly realizes he’s stood up and crossed the distance between them, and they’re standing an arm's length apart. He could reach out and grab him, but he doesn't.

Martin just looks tired. “Jon, you knew this was coming. You knew I was going to do something like this.”

“I-I won’t let you.” Even as he says it, he can feel his knees shaking. 

“You can’t stop me,” Martin says, smiling mirthlessly. “And besides, this is saving the world. My fate is already sealed, there’s no atoning I can do or desperate pleas I can make, even if I wanted to. You don’t need to forgive me, I’m not asking for that, but I wanted to apologize.” He shrugs. “I think I did, anyway. It’s... hard to feel things now. But I would’ve wanted to, once, even if I don’t anymore.”

“I forgive you,” Jon blurts out. "I mean, it's not just asking for forgiveness, right? It's accepting it." 

Martin nods awkwardly. Something in his posture changes, and he seems slightly lighter. “Um... have an easy fast, I guess. And take care of yourself. Really."

“Yeah," he says shakily. "You too.”

The door closes, and Martin is gone. A tape recorder sitting on Jon’s desk clicks off, satisfied, and Jon envies it.

Jon sits back down, barely making it back to his desk, and exhales. Every bone in his body screams for him to go after Martin, to find out what he’s doing, to watch it or stop it, and it’s both sides of him this time.

He doesn’t. 

He sits back down, and he ignores the pain, and he fasts.


End file.
